His Jilted Bride (Historical Regency Romance) (25 page)

The idea that he could be interested
in her thrilled her and sent a wave of excitement flooding over
her. Followed by a wave of uncertainty. She was nearly certain she
was carrying another man's child. Of course she could tell him all
of the sordid details afterwards, but would he forgive her? Would
he be angry with her when he went to take her innocence only to
find she wasn't chaste? No. She couldn't let him find out that way
he deserved to know now. She closed her eyes to keep in the
stinging tears that seemed to come more frequently than the
post.

“
Elijah, I must tell— Oooh.” She snapped her eyes open to make
sure she wasn't dreaming that Elijah had grown too impatient
waiting for her decision and decided to offer her more
encouragement, as if just feeling his warm mouth on the crest of
her barely covered breast hadn't been enough.

“
Just yes or no,” Elijah murmured against her breast. Not
taking his mouth from her swollen breast, he sank to his knees,
then closed his mouth around the hardened peak and gently nipped it
with his teeth.

A strange feeling shot through her.
Then another when his tongue passed over where his teeth had just
been. He pulled away and looked up at her. She'd never seen genuine
desire in his eyes before, but recognized it immediately. Keeping
his gaze locked with hers, he carefully slid down the other side of
her chemise, the soft fabric like a gentle caress over her swollen
breast and against her hardened nipple. With a swallow loud enough
to wake even the heaviest sleeper, he kept his eyes trained on hers
and moved his mouth next to her now exposed breast.

Hot desire shot through her as his
open mouth moved over her breast. Then suddenly it felt like fire
had been poured into her veins when he found what he'd been
searching for. His wicked tongue flicked across the tip. Once.
Twice. Then he pulled away, his hands lifting her chemise back into
place.

Panic washed over her. What if this
was the only chance she'd ever get? What if he rejected her or only
bedded her because he was between mistresses and didn't want to
bother with a bawdy house after she told him the truth? This could
be the only chance she'd ever have to have him like this and curse
her black soul, she wanted it more than she'd ever wanted anything
before, the consequences be damned.

“
Yes.”

Elijah froze, his hands back on her
shoulders, his fingers loosely holding onto the straps he was about
to release.

Wordlessly, he took to his feet again,
the hungry look in his eyes stronger than before. With a slowness
that made Amelia's heart hammer so wildly in her chest that she was
surprised it hadn't beat right out, he lowered both sides of her
chemise. The fabric, followed by Elijah's intense gaze, glided over
her sensitive skin, arousing her more, if such a thing were
possible. He swallowed and his Adam's apple bobbed in his throat
just as he lowered it enough to reveal her full breasts. His hands
stopped moving the garment lower for a moment as his eyes drank her
in thus far.

Her breasts swelled under his watchful
gaze. He dropped to his knees again, then ever-so-slowly, he
continued lowering her shift to the floor. “You're more beautiful
than I'd imagined,” he said as he took to his feet; his voice
hardly more than a broken whisper.

Amelia furrowed her brows. Was that an
insult or a compliment?

As if he'd read her mind, he said,
“That's a good thing.” Then he leaned forward and pressed a kiss
between her puckered eyebrows, then at the top of her nose, then in
the middle of the slope of her nose. He kissed all the way down
until their lips met again.

Her hands reached forward
on their own accord. He was moving too slow. If she didn't start
taking his clothes off, they might be interrupted and reminded of
dinner. That was the last thing she wanted. She slipped the buttons
free first his coat, then reached inside and unfastened his cravat
and waistcoat. He broke their kiss and stepped back just long
enough for her to push his coat and waistcoat off his shoulders,
remove his cravat and pull his shirt from his trousers. As if
now
she
were the
one moving too slow for his liking, Elijah yanked his shirt over
his head.

His skin was bronzed as if he'd spent
a considerable amount of time outside without his shirt. He'd been
to the Mediterranean and many other exotic places, she should have
expected nothing less. His skin was tight against the protruding
muscles in his chest and the twin row of ripples that went down his
stomach. In the middle of his chest was just a sprinkling of
curling, light brown hair. Instinctively, she reached up and
touched him, reveling in the way his muscles leapt beneath her
touch. She glided her hands over the plane of his chest and to his
broad shoulders, down his sides and across his stomach, there
wasn't a part of him she didn't want to touch, all the unusually
shaped scars that littered his abdomen included. Simultaneously,
his hands found her body, too. They skated down her from just
beside her breasts to the flare of her hips, up her back then
slowly back around to cup her full breasts.

He squeezed, not hard, but not in a
way that made it tickle. Perfect. His hands slowly caressed her
breasts as his lips set out to find hers again. This time his kiss
was more demanding, urgent. His tongue swept through her mouth and
his hard body pressed hers. She lowered her hands down to his
waistband. Would it seem too forward of her to unfasten them? His
thumbs brushed her pebbled nipples and she instantly knew the
answer: no, he wouldn't mind at all. One. Two. Three. She slid the
buttons through their holes, releasing the fall of his
trousers.

He broke their kiss and removed his
hands, his breathing ragged and his face slightly flushed. He bent
down and tugged at the laces in his boots until they were just
loose enough for him to step out of. He took off the first and
tossed it to the ground with a thud, then did the same with the
next. When his eyes met hers again, that savage look was still
there, thrilling her to no end. He reached for her hands and placed
them back where they'd been at the top of his waistband. “Continue.
Please.”

No more words were needed. She slipped
her hands just inside the top of his trousers, and gave them a
gentle tug. They came down just an inch or two. Revealing only the
dips of his hips, just enough to frustrate her.

“
They're stuck,” Elijah rasped.

“
Yes, I see that, but on what?” She'd undone all of the
buttons. She ran her hands along the outer edge of his waistband,
perhaps they were stuck on his hips and needed help coming
down—

Elijah's fingers closed around her
wrist then moved her hand down the front of his
trousers.

Shock, then curiosity, took hold.
Longer than her hand, thick and hard, she'd never touched anything
like it before. Holding that part of him against his body, she gave
his trousers another tug. Ever-the-gentleman, Elijah took mercy and
helped her with the other side, then when they'd fallen to the
floor, he stepped out.

She blushed. Her hand was
still on his...er...body part. She abruptly let go, eliciting a
small sound of vexation from Elijah. She smiled at him. Who
knew
she'd
ever
have this affect on anyone, especially Elijah. She reached forward
and took his hand. “Come.”

He waited for no further invitation
and followed her to the bed. He helped her climb in and then was
there beside—then on top of—her in a matter of seconds. He
positioned himself to lie between her parted legs and brought his
mouth back to her chest where he tasted and kissed her. She arched
into him, offering him as much of her breast as he could take. He
didn't fail her, he covered one with his mouth and the other with
his hand, squeezing and shaping it. She gasped his name and her
fingers found his silken hair, sinking into it and holding his head
against her breast. His lips closed around her nipple and his
fingers around the other. Each time he licked or lightly squeezed
her there, she had this strange, yet exciting sensation in her
abdomen.

His mouth moved lower, down to her
hip, licking a hot trail with his tongue as he went. He drew up to
his knees, his other hand now finding her recently abandoned
breast. In tandem, he explored them both while his mouth continued
its exploration of her hips. He placed a kiss just in the dip of
her hip, then on the point of her bone, then just above. She
shivered.

Just when she thought she could stand
no more, he began to kiss a path up the middle of her stomach, then
through the valley of her breasts and all the way back to her lips.
He released her breasts and repositioned himself again, this time
lowering his body to rest on top of hers. He rolled just off to the
side a bit and reached between them. Something broad brushed her
most private flesh, exciting her in a way similar to what she'd
felt the other day when Elijah touched her there. She flushed at
the shameful memory, but all shame and embarrassment was banished
from her mind when he brushed her again and another small wave of
pleasure shot through her. Then, something pushed at her opening.
She tensed, her fingers clutching his hair so tightly she feared
she might pull some out. With one swift motion, he thrust
in.

Her body jerked in response. That had
hurt. Why, she didn't know, but it had hurt. She brought her hands
to his shoulders. “Could you wait a moment, please?”

His eyes widened. “I'm sorry, Amelia.
I should have warned you,” he said thickly.

“
No.” She shook her head violently against the pillow. “I just
hadn't expected it to hurt.”

He dropped a kiss on her lips. “It
won't next time.”

She certainly hoped it wouldn't, but
couldn't be too hopeful. It had hurt this time and it wasn't
supposed to, after all. She moved her hands to his shoulders,
giving them a little squeeze. Their eyes locked, his were asking a
question, and she hoped he could read the answer in
hers.

With a terse nod, he began to move
again. Slow and easy at first, then a bit quicker and more
deliberate. Her fingers dug into the warm skin of his muscled
shoulders as he drove into her. With each thrust, her skin grew
warmer and her abdomen contracted as small sparks of excitement
shot through her.

Elijah bent down and kissed her lips
and then her chin, and then over to her breast. When he found the
crest, her body bucked on its own accord. He moved to the other,
lavishing the same attention on it. He lifted his head, his eyes so
dark blue now they almost looked black. His breathing was heavy and
with each thrust became louder, more labored. Then suddenly a
savage grunt that sounded as if it were ripped from his chest
filled the air and his body stiffened, then collapsed on top of
hers.

He murmured something against her
hair, but she didn't hear it, nor did she mind so much. She was
perfectly content to hold him this way. She brought her hand up to
sweep back the blond hair on his damp forehead.

“
Don't move, I'll be back,” he said a few minutes later. He
moved to stand up, separating their bodies.

She felt bereft in his absence, like
part of her was missing. He came back a moment later with a basin
and a handkerchief. She swallowed. What would he say when he didn't
find what he was looking for? Terror washed over her. He might not
have noticed before, but he'd certainly notice now.

He took her right leg in his hand, and
instinctively she flexed the muscles to keep them together. “Can
you move your legs apart for me a little more?” He squeezed her
leg, presumably to help her understand what he wanted.

Taking a deep breath, she did as he'd
asked.

“
There's not much, don't worry,” he murmured, wiping the cloth
between her legs.

That did
not
put her mind at
ease. There was a reason there wasn't much. Wait. If there wasn't
much, then there was
some
. Nervously, she sat up. What
was down there? Perhaps her stomachache and sensitive breasts had
just been a sign of her impending monthly, she thought hopefully as
she craned her neck to see if perhaps that was what he was
seeing.

It couldn't be. Her monthly had never
been quite so...bright before. But that didn't make sense. She'd
woken up with her gown crushed and the bodice gaping, and no actual
memory of what had happened. Was it possible the stranger had left
her chaste, after all? How could that possibly be? Perhaps she'd
fallen asleep and the stranger had lost interest; or perhaps he'd
been caught before something happened; or discovered she was a
lady; or had some sort of male trouble, she'd heard a few of the
old matrons discuss special herbs before. A million questions
cycled through her mind, and all would have to go unanswered
because she didn't even begin to know where to seek her answers.
Whatever had happened, she didn't dare question it. She was far too
grateful that Elijah had been her first and would be her only. She
looked up to Elijah. He didn't look quite so well, his face had
gone pale and his eyes were downcast.

A sudden sense of shame came over her
and she clamped her legs back together. His eyes shot to hers.
“Amelia?”